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Born to Magic: Tales of Nevaeh: Volume I Page 34
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“Leave with us. It is safer through the ruins if we go together. I will tell the others.”
Ten minutes later, their goodbyes said, Roth, Mikaal, Areenna, Enaid, and Ilsraeth started their kraals up the winding road leading to the top of the palisade while Laira climbed down to the skiff to begin her trip across the water.
Atir alone remained on the Landing with her treygone and Laira’s ret, watching as her daughter began the crossing.
They stopped two hours later, and a half mile away from the ruins, through which they had passed safely. There, Ilsraeth took her leave and, with her black rantor loping along next to her, pushed her kraal into a cantor and headed north across the wasteland toward her home.
“She will be fine,” Enaid assured Roth, who watched the woman ride off. “The rantor and her magic are more than enough protection.” Then she looked at Areenna and Mikaal. “You two have been withholding something. Speak now.”
It is time to tell them, Areenna pushed to Mikaal.
Yes. I leave it to you.
Areenna could not stop the short laugh from getting out. Coward.
“What?” Enaid asked anxiously.
Areenna cleared her throat. “Mikaal and I decided to wait until we were alone with you. When we were on the Island, when the cloaked ones gifted us, they also gave us instruction.” She paused to look questioningly at Enaid.
“Continue,” Enaid said.
Areenna took a slow breath. “They told us we are to go to the far northwestern mountains—to the Frozen Mountains. We have been given an undertaking that must be done before the dark ones cross the seas and reach us here. Without accomplishing this, they said, Nevaeh will fall and we will be overcome.”
“The Frozen Mountains,” Enaid whispered, her voice a breaking croak. “What are you to seek in that frozen desolation? Nothing lives there.”
“Something does. Something that must be awakened,” Areenna said, her voice low, but the words resounded loudly in everyone’s ears.
“You will have to wait. It’s a two month journey to that region, in the best of weather,” Roth said. “No man or woman can survive the mountains in winter.”
Mikaal nodded in agreement. He took Areenna’s hand. “We have preparations to make. We only know a little of what they gifted to us. We know we must learn everything before we leave. And we will leave a month before spring thaw.”
“You have a full three months before you leave. It will be enough time to learn and make you ready,” Enaid declared. But her words did not reflect the overwhelming sensation of fear tying her thoughts into knots.
She knew whatever they had been charged with, would be fraught with dangers none could imagine.
“Until then,” Roth said, cutting into all their thoughts, “we work and train and prepare, not just the two of you, but all of Nevaeh. If war is coming, as you have been told, then such will be met by power of all the peoples of Nevaeh.”
EPILOGUE
SHE LAY ON the cavern floor, unmoving, her twisted limbs spread awkwardly as she stared at the high ceiling above. She had failed, and with failure came fear. Her masters would soon know of this failure, if they did not already have the knowledge.
Trembling on the rock floor, exhausted from the battle fought with the forces she had never encountered before, she pleaded with her masters even as she sent the message of her failure to them.
She was explicit within the message, sparing no detail of what had happened and filled the mist-carried winged messenger with her impression of the powers that had defeated her creations and herself. At the end of the woeful tale, she added her plea for mercy, knowing full well it might never be answered.
But there was no choice. There was no one other than her dark masters, the rulers of her world, the ones who had entrusted this part of the world to her with the most important task of all. To destroy Roth, his woman, his child and the woman-child called Areenna, just as she had killed the woman child’s mother with a lingering painful death.
She dragged herself from the floor and half-walked half-scuttled to the cavern’s opening, where the winged mist awaited. She drew into herself, all the strength she could muster and once her message was complete, and the mist swirled about her impatiently, she would either live or die at their whim. Yet, until that day came, she would not cease her attempts to finish what her masters had commanded.
“I will destroy them, I will do as you have commanded. Or I will give my life in the attempt.”
A rush of confidence filled her when she swirled her hands and called up the formula to send the message on its winged way.
She completed the formula and the mist disappeared. She looked up into the sky and saw not the cloud-filled heavens above, but the faces of the four she had sworn to destroy. From within the black remnants of what once was her soul came a haunting laugh, for she knew what was coming.
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The End
Tales Of Nevaeh, Volume I
Born To Magic
A special preview of book II, The Dark Masters, follow these pages.
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Author’s Notes
Dear Reader,
Thank you for your support! Without you my stories would sit on a bookstore shelf, a warehouse, or in a database somewhere in a ‘cloud’ waiting for you to find them. I don’t write because it’s a job, I write because it’s my passion. I hope reading and enjoying the worlds created by writers is your passion.
I hope as well, you have enjoyed this first book in the Tales Of Nevaeh series, Born To Magic, as much as I did writing it, and I would love to hear from you about your reading experience.
If you enjoyed this book, and would like to lend me your support and help spread the word about Born To Magic, please tell a friend and share it with the world by writing a review. Nothing fancy, just tell the world what you think—even just a sentence or two would be appreciated.
Reading your reviews, and receiving emails from you, means a tremendous amount to me. And I would like to thank you in advance for your help in spreading the word about Areenna and Mikaal and the people of Nevaeh.
I have included below, some convenient links for you.
Thank you for taking the time to read Born To Magic,
David
Click here to write a review on Amazon.
Click here to write a review on Goodreads.
Email me at [email protected]
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
David Wind
When my first novel was published in 1981, I had no idea where I was headed. Since then, I've published thirty-five novels, thirty-three of them with traditional publishers, but in 2007, I decided I wanted more freedom than the traditional publishers would allow and began a new phase in my life as an Independent Author.
I live and write in a small village about thirty miles upstate of NYC, and share my house with my wife, Bonnie and our dog Alfie, an apricot poodle. Our three children have ventured out into the world on their own (or so they think). Our son Zach works on the CBS show 48 Hours. Our daughter Devon, her husband Russell and my grandson Sawyer live in New Jersey where Devon teaches Special Education. Alana, our youngest daughter, is a Pastry Chef in San Francisco.
In 2008, I published Angels In Mourning, my 'homage' to the old time private detective books of the 50's and the 60's. I used to love to sneak them from my parents’ night-tables and read them as a young boy. Angels, is a modern day take on the old style hardboiled detective. In April of that year, Angels In Mourning won the Amazon.com Book of the Month Reader's Choice Award.
My Fantasy, Queen Of Knights, reached #2 on the amazon.com bestseller lists for historical fantasy and medieval fantasy, and my sci-fi of parallel worlds, The Others, received wide acclaim.
I am currently working on the third volume of the Tales of Nevaeh. Volume II will be out in the late spring.
My novels have been translated into 11 languages and published in 15 countries.
David’s Links
Da
vid’s Amazon.com Author’s Page
Twitter: @david_wind
Facebook: authordavidwind
David’s website: http://www.davidwind.com
Goodreads Authors Page
Available Novels by David Wind
The Dark Masters, Tales Of Nevaeh, Book II
Prelude To Nevaeh: Roth’s story—A free download of the back story to the Tales Of Nevaeh
Born To Magic, Tales Of Nevaeh
Queen Of Knights
The Others
The Cured
Angels In Mourning
The Hyte Maneuver
A Conspiracy Of Mirrors
As Peace Lay Dying
CO OP
Shadows
And Down Will Come Baby
Short Stories
The Guardian At The Edge Of The World – Published in André Norton’s Witch World 2 anthology, TOR Books
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For more information about David Wind, please visit http://www.davidwind.com
A special preview of
The Tales Of Nevaeh
Volume II
The Dark Master
CHAPTER 1
AREENNA OF FREEMORN sat stone still: her breathing soundless, her senses ranging, searching. Hidden by the branches of a low hanging gazebow tree, she eased her tense muscles before making her next move.
Challenging her inner strength while willing her body to rest and recover, she could not help but marvel at how much had happened in the few months following their testing on the Island.
She had changed in so many ways there were times when she barely recognized herself. Her strength and her powers had increased more than she’d ever imagined possible—far more than the short eighteen years she’d lived. Her ability to meld her mind with his was as if they were one person. Harder though, was the knowledge that the emotions within her could not be permitted to rise to the barest of thoughts—not yet.
From above, Gaalrie’s warning tugged within her mind and she stopped thinking. He is near. She stood, let her senses expand, and then shot off into the thicker woods.
Racing through the forest, zigzagging between trees like a mad weaver creating a bewildering drapery, Areenna moved with the swiftness of a rantor on hunt. Above her, silver streaked cinnamon and black-feathered Gaalrie, the foundling treygone she had rescued and bonded with four years before, flew in pace with her running, its six foot wingspread rode the currents above the treetops. The thickness of the forest prevented her from seeing her pursuer through her aoutem’s eyes, yet she knew he was close and coming fast; exactly where she wasn’t sure for he’d blocked himself well. She paused for a breath.
To her left was another giant gazebow tree, its long and heavy branches curved downward to kiss the ground, offering her a degree of protection. To her right stood a tall pine, hundreds of years old, its trunk almost as wide as the gazebow.
Standing between the two trees, Areenna sought him with her mind. There! He was close. She could not read him through the block, but recognized the complete absence of anything as the block he’d raised around himself. She closed her eyes and drew on her inner power, seeking one of the new abilities she had been gifted with on the Island. When the heat roared through her abdomen, she created a mind picture of herself and set it under the gazebow tree, where the barest glimpse of her arm and shoulder could be seen between the leafy branches. She moved behind the bole of the tall pine and drew her short-sword. Gaalrie settled on a branch above her. She slowed her breathing, knowing she could not hold this ability for long.
Thirty seconds later came the faint echoes of dead twigs and old leaves crunching beneath boots. She drew a slow breath and held it.
Emerging from behind a small cluster of trees to her left, tall and broad, black hair hanging to his shoulders and gray eyes searching everywhere, Mikaal of Tolemac stepped between the gazebow and the pine, took three steps and turned. He spotted the mind picture hidden by the branches.
When he moved toward the gazebow, she launched herself from behind the tree. She was on him in three strides, her shortsword swinging in a deadly killing stroke.
Before the blade reached him, he spun and caught her sword on his longsword. The ring of metal upon metal echoed loudly in the quiet forest. A smile broke across his face. Good!
Good? “Is that all it was?” she asked aloud, lowering her sword and sheathing it. “Anyone else would not have known I was behind them.”
I am not anyone else, Mikaal told her in their wordless way.
True, she replied, returning his smile with her own. “Let’s rest for a minute. We’ve been at this for hours.”
Mikaal lowered himself to the mossy grass and Areenna did the same. Sighing pleasantly, she looked at the sky. The sun had crested three hours before and was deep into its western descent. Rays of staggered sunlight, filtered beams of yellow and white, slipped through the tree branches of the forest near the border of Tolemac, at the edge of the Southern Outlands. These shafts of light, like fences separating the trees, marked the boundaries of the training field Areenna and Mikaal had been using for the past months. Here, away from prying eyes, and for days at a time, they worked on their abilities, sharpening them, practicing each until they were available at the merest hint of a thought.
Here, they worked on their physical fighting abilities—sword work, bow work and knife training. Mikaal, halfway through his twentieth year, was the equal of any warrior of Nevaeh; at eighteen, Areenna, under his tutelage was not far behind.
Yet more potent than the training of blade and shaft was the understanding of their special abilities. Areenna’s abilities had grown twenty fold since the Island. Still her most powerful weapon was the blue white light she could wield to stop or destroy an opponent. And Mikaal’s ability with fire had grown into a weapon both fierce and fearful.
“My father’s Sixes will be here shortly,” Mikaal said, offering her his gourd to drink from. The ‘Six groups’ were his father’s specially trained guards—trained in the same manner Roth had been trained in the twenty-second century, before boarding the starship that had kept him alive and in stasis for three thousand years.
Our final training, yes? she asked, using thought rather than word as she removed her padded leather tunic to allow her skin to cool in the chilled air. The short sleeved undergarment was damp with sweat. While the weather in Tolemac was never too cold, this winter had been one of the coldest in many years. For them, it was beneficial, as they had spent the past months acclimating themselves to the cold, in preparation for the Frozen Mountains of the northwest.
The only bad part of the winter was that instead of leaving for the northwest when they had planned, their journey was delayed by a month because of heavy blizzards in the northwest and western dominions.
Watching her, Mikaal traced her features, taking in the smooth lines of her cheekbones set beneath sea green eyes and hesitated only monetarily on her full mouth before dropping to her exposed arms. The lean muscles of her upper arms glowed in the afternoon light. “If we are to leave in three days, today will be our last here,” Mikaal agreed.
“Are you sure about the Six?”
Mikaal’s smile was gentle; his nod emphatic. “They will be a good test. We must know if we can handle fighters of their level, individually and as a team.”
“But we already know this.”
His smile faded, his voice turned low and serious. “We are, you and I, good against one or two, but there are no fighters in Nevaeh who are their equal. If we can hold our own against six of them, we will know we are ready, physically, to do what we must.”
We cannot use our abilities with them. It will not be easy.
True. Then, aloud, he said, “Today isn’t about how we combine our powers; it’s about how we blend together in physical battle.” He sat straighter, the water skein in his hand forgotten. His eyes glazed momentarily. They come. Put on your leather, they are near.
Areenna put on her padded leather tunic,
closed her eyes and pushed out with her mind. Gaalrie left her roost and flew low through the trees. A moment later she joined with Gaalrie and through her aoutem’s eyes, saw the ‘Six’ moving silently through the woods. She watched their progress while she closed her padded leather tunic, which would be worn beneath the special armor Roth was creating for her as he had for Mikaal.
Join with me, she asked.
Mikaal immediately connected with her. Since their testing on the Island, their joining had become fast and natural. When he was settled in her mind, he too watched through Gaalrie’s eyes as the six warriors wove toward them in silent passage.
Charka’s warning came as a tweak within his mind when the men passed the kraal and closed in on them. When Mikaal stood, Areenna did the same.
“Leave your sword sheathed until the last second; let them think us unprepared.”
Areenna smiled at him. “Your father said he will have my armor ready tomorrow,” she said aloud. They have surrounded us, she added silently.
“I know,” he responded, to both her voice words and the silent ones as well. Now!
They spun, drawing their weapons and ending up back to back as the six men charged from behind trees, racing toward Areenna and Mikaal with their swords held high.
Like all Nevaen men, they were tall, broad and powerful. Today they wore full battle armor. Their bodies encased within hammered metal, the joints subtle leather, they broke into two packs of three and charged.
Areenna eyed the three who veered toward her. She set herself, her stance solid just before the first man reached her. Tall and broad-shouldered, the soldier sword glinted in the waning sun, its long blade blurring toward her. She moved fast, ducking low and weaving to the left while reaching out with her sword. She struck him hard across his thighs with the flat of her blade, recovered quickly and blocked the second man’s sword when he attacked from behind.